


Kisses from Neptune

by JaqofSpades



Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M, Kisses Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 17:32:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4230699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaqofSpades/pseuds/JaqofSpades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joyful kisses, sexy kisses, tearful kisses, sad, tear-your-heart-out kisses.  These are the kisses from Neptune.</p><p>(Collected ficlets from the kisses meme featuring Veronica, Weevil, and other denizens of Neptune, California.  Not a continuity, or necessarily set in the same universe.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kiss on the neck (Veronica/Weevil)

**Speed** (Veronica/Weevil for helsinkibaby) **  
**

Veronica presses closer and he rewards her with a burst of speed, the road flashing underneath them as they swoop their way up towards the headland, Neptune behind them for now. Her hands are toying with his belt buckle, and her breath is hot on his neck, triggering a thousand sense memories they’d be safer not reliving at 80 miles an hour on the PCH.

She’s got her face tucked down against his neck, the little half helmet cold against his ears, but her need to be close warming him from within. He’d always thought of her as prickly, before, punchy and aloof as she stalked about the school aiming her one-liners at anyone who dared cross her, so this girl, who slides her hand into his back pocket whenever they walk together and likes to tangle her legs with him in bed comes as a surprise.

Then he remembers the sweet, smiley kid she’d been before Lilly, the one he’d never really had the chance to get to know. Maybe that girl hadn’t died with her best friend, the way everyone thought. Maybe the other Veronica had simply been hiding away, waiting for someone to kiss her back to life. He’ll only admit it to himself in moments like this, lost in the gentle bliss of the bike between his thighs and a hot wind in his face, or those hazy last cuddles before sleep, but there’s something about Veronica Mars that makes him crazy shit like that. One look that face glowing with love and trust, and he’s half convinced that he could be her prince, and Neptune could be some fairytale.

Course, it’d have to be a pretty dark and grungy one, and a lot of people would swear Veronica was the wicked witch rather than the fairytale princess, but he’s okay with that. Loves it, in fact, that they think that’s all she is, that barbed wit and ever-calculating brain that never turns off.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves going toe-to-toe with her and watching those blue-green eyes slowly catch alight with the joy of the fight, loves it so much that they often have to find a closet after, anything that will let him worship that fighting spirit by slamming her up against the wall as her fingernails tear holes in his skin. But it’s not the fight he’s thinking of as he sinks into the hot welcome he finds inside, or the long moment of peace that descends after, before they head back out into the fray. It’s his sweet girl, princess Veronica, queen of his heart.

… who is feathering her lips along the edge of his jaw, so soft, so sweet, until she finds the magically sensitive skin underneath, and catches it between her teeth. He jumps on the accelerator in shock, pushing them up past 90 as his cock bolts from half hard to fully in the game.

“Gonna get us killed, chica,” he groans, but she just giggles in his ear as she undoes his belt buckle and top button, then slips her hand inside.

“You just watch the road. Let me drive stick,” she purrs, and strokes him with her fingertips, sliding around the head and underneath as far as she can reach before moving back to enclose him in her fist. The bike threatens to skid into the verge as he closes his eyes in delight, but she immediately lets go of him. “Uh, uh. Think of it as our version of Speed – you slow down, I stop.”

Stopping, he wants to point out, would be the smart thing to do, Miss I’m-smarter-than-you. But his little brain is suddenly in charge when she fists him again, hard but slow. His speed levels out, and the next pass of her hand is faster, then faster still as he stomps on the gas.

He pushes the bike back up into the 90s, steadying off when she’s jerking him fast enough to leave him on the edge of madness, but not so fast he won’t get a few long minutes to enjoy it. They fly along the highway, his eyes fixed to the line ahead, body braced to keep the damn thing steady, the rest of him coiled in expectation of the oncoming bliss. Her lips are back at his neck, feathery kisses giving way to long wet licks, and he knows instinctively what’s she’s going to do, his fairytale princess.

Her hand tightens to the point of pain and she yanks him mercilessly, just as she leans over to bite down hard. Her teeth break the flesh in a surge of _ohfuckyessogood_ , and the extra layer of sensation lodges at the base of his spine, exploding into his cock into paroxysm of ridiculous proportions. She strokes him through it, gentle now, then pulls her hand out of his leather pants with a final pat to his exhausted cock.

“Boom goes the dynamite,” he hears her say, the smirk in her voice loud and clear, and he can only shake his head and let the speed drop off to the point of laziness as they crest the bluff, the lights of Neptune twinkling gorgeously in the distance.

Definitely a fairytale, Eli smiles to himself, his body humming with the beauty of the night, and the view, and the woman behind him. Maybe less Disney and more Raymond Chandler, but it’s their goddamn fairytale and they wouldn’t have it any other way.


	2. Last kiss (Veronica/Weevil)

**At last.** (Veronica/Weevil for palis-delon) **  
**

“Your flight,” she gasps, “is leaving in two minutes.” She doesn’t let go of his jacket, though, or unclench her fingers from his bicep. Doesn’t even lift her lips from his properly, simply moans the words into his mouth.

“Can do a lot in two minutes,” Weevil growls, pulling her further into the alcove between the two vending machines. “I can --”

“Get us fucking arrested,” Veronica says breathlessly. “And my father is the Sherriff!”

“Still can’t get used to that,” Weevil shakes his head. “Me back on my bike and your Dad back in uniform.”

“Just like old times,” Veronica chirps, trying to distract herself as she prepares herself to let him go. “Except we didn’t get to say goodbye like this, then,” she breathes, and uses his bulk to steady her as tangles her tongue with his one last time.

He crushes her close and explores every last contour of her mouth, every last flavour as they cling together. She breaks away with a tortured moan, but their eyes continue to make love even as she backs away.

“Say hi to Jade. Say … thanks, I guess. Tell Valentina I’m really looking forward to seeing her, and if she’ll wear a dress just this once, she can wear my old combat boots underneath if she likes.”

“I will. Now come here, Miss Mars. I wanna kiss my girlfriend one last time.”

“Nope. That was our last kiss. You can’t miss that damn plane – it’ll throw everything out! Next time -- ”

He’s walking backwards, bag slung over his shoulder, gaze still locked to hers. She’s mesmerised, unable to look away as everything they’ve been to each other burns in his eyes. Then his lips twist into the mocking pout that she’s hated ever since the first time it made belly clench and her thighs tremble.

“See you at the church, Mars. Next time I kiss you, you’ll be my wife.”


	3. We can never be together (Veronica/Weevil)

**A door closes** (Veronica/Weevil for winterlace) **  
**

The day Jade that comes home is simultaneously the happiest and hardest of his life.  Her absence has been a hole in his heart, Valentina’s a slash in his soul.  He begged for a second chance, and now that she’s decided to give it to him, there’s one more thing he needs to do to make it work.

“Hey.”

She looks up from her desk with the tiny frown he knows is puzzlement rather than annoyance.  “You forget something?”

“Nah.  Just -  Jade’s home.  And Valentina.”

Her smile is wide and sunny, thrilled for him.  Probably glad she won’t have to listen to him bitch about them anymore, all that posturing he’s been doing to disguise how much it hurt.  A little piece of him whispers that he doesn’t have to do this, shouldn’t have to.  They’re just friends, dammit.

Then she rises from her desk and rises on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek.  Two seconds in his arms and he wants to walk her backwards, push her files out of the way and lift her up on that big black monster and make her pant his name the way she used to.  He drags in the scent of her hair, slides his hands down her arms and takes a step backwards, then another one.

“I gotta stop working with you.”  He forces the words out of his throat, praying she won’t need him to explain why.  “Gotta keep my head in the game.  Focus on the girls.”

She looks stung for a moment, then attempts a smile.  “No time for midnight stakeouts when you have a family, I guess.  I’ll miss you, but …”

“It’s not the time,” he barges in before he has to listen to her telling him she understands.  “It’s you.  I can’t work with you, and … be there for Jade.  Not fully.”

This time her quick, fluttery breath testifies that she really does understand.  “Oh.  Shit.”  She steps backwards, as if she’s the one that crossed the line.

He hangs his head, hating himself for making her think that, then blows his every last good intention.  Her lips are sweet under his, opening with surprise, then a rising fervor.   He memorises her taste, the little sounds she makes, and knows that when he pulls away, her face will be wet with tears.

“Love you long time,” he breathes into her mouth, then drops a lightning quick kiss on her forehead before stumbling towards the door, eyes blind and mind full of all their what-might-have-beens.


	4. Kiss on the ear (Logan/Piz)

**Jailhouse bop.** Piz/Logan for truemyth.

*

He has neat ears. Surprisingly so, for such a lumbering oaf. He was being … uncharitable, Logan allowed, but he’d spent four hours in the company of the man his girl had chosen over him. Locked up in an eight-by-eight cell, no less. Uncharitable would just have to do.

See, Veronica? Haven’t even thrown a punch yet, he thought sourly. Not that I do that anymore, but it’s not like you know. (Ten years, she’d been away. _Ten years_. Ten. Ten. Ten.)

Fabulous. Now he’s getting maudlin.

He tries to slide into the mantra his therapist recommends when the anger gets the best of him – let it go, this is no longer who I am, I have shed that skin – but those neat little ears are taunting him. Veronica kisses those ears. Maybe bites down when she comes. Probably thinks they’re cute.

He wants to see them flower under his fist, red and bloody, cauliflowers in the making.

_Let it go. This is no longer who I am. I have shed -_

But he hasn’t, not really. He hasn’t bloodied his fists on anyone’s face in years, but the anger still rises. The insults still quiver on the tip of his asshole tongue. He’s just learned to smile around them, be mild. Courteous, even. Use the manners Mom drilled into him when he wasn’t looking.

Divert it. Distract it.

Piz sighs loudly and Logan leans forward to clap him on the shoulder. “She’ll be here soon, man. It’s her favourite dance, the get-Logan-out-of-jail tango. Used to keep a special stash of bail money just for me – ah, the good old days.”

‘Cept I was the one who used to get the riot act in the car and the ridiculous makeup sex once we got home, but I won’t be mentioning that. Maybe she doesn’t do that anymore.

Maybe she …

Fuck. Distraction.

Neat ears. They’re in jail. Oh yeah, that’ll do it.

He drops down onto the floor next to Piz and nudges him with his shoulder. Turns his face into the other man’s neck and breathes straight into his ear, trying not to grin when Piz tenses, suddenly stiff as a board.

The lick is lascivious, so camp that Logan is rolling his eyes internally as the other man starts to hyperventilate. Jesus, Opie. Get a clue.

“Let’s play prison buddies until she gets here,” he pants breathily, and plunges his tongue into the cavity of the idiot’s ear.


End file.
